


I Don't Wanna Breath

by BlackCanary0001



Series: Batman one shots [18]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Death in the Family (Movie 2020), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt, Flashbacks, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but it is too late, too little too late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCanary0001/pseuds/BlackCanary0001
Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason doesn't know how to cope. The little boy his... not-family is missing is dead and the last person he wants to see right now is Bruce fucking Wayne, but of course the bastard doesn't care, he never has, after all.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman one shots [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905481
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	I Don't Wanna Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Comatose' by Skillet

Gotham was cold. That's how it had always been and how it will always be. Cold and grey and dangerous. The cold is freezing, making you shiver and shake, your blood coated with small ice crystals and your breath visible in small clouds. But it is not the cold that Jason detests, it's not the way his tears freeze on his face, or that the bottle of booze hurts his fingers; it has never been the cold that bothered him.

Before, he'd always feared the cold months. It had been harder to pickpocket someone, to survive alone and hungry and freezing. But now the cold didn't faze him anymore, what really scares him is the cold he feels inside. It freezes his heart and every time he falls, a small piece breaks until there's just shattered pieces left. That's what he's afraid of.

Years ago, he'd missed the heat. He would be able to feel his barefoot feet on the ground again, not numbed by snow and the sun could actually put a smile on his face, giving comfort and safety. But now, the heat just burns. The sun is a bomb, the heat is fire and the sweat is smoke and it's all meant to hurt and it _did_ hurt, but that is not important right now, because it is cold, so freezing cold and Jason shivers.

Why do people need heat and fire to survive, why did Prometheus bring the burning substance down to earth and condemned so many lives? He shuddered again, but this time the cold could not reach him, 'cause all he felt was heat and fire and _pain_ and it just didn't stop.

He took another swing of his whisky. Or maybe it was something else, but it really didn't matter, because there were so many bottles, decorating his grave like burns did his skin, just that it was all gone by now, there was just green. And he neither feared blue nor red, but green was rage and green was Lazarus and maybe that's why he feared the bright colour. Another sip.

Jason put the bottle down, resting his head on his arms, back leant against his own gravestone. His head was fuzzy and he was swaying from side to side and something smelled funny and maybe that was the booze he'd put down next to the stone with his name on it and he looked down and saw the gras of his grave between his legs and he remembered. He remembered waking up, scared, lonely and in pain and he remembered how his fingernails had broken and his fingers bled and how he had screamed, but his voice was raw and there were tears and blood and more tears and then he was buried under tons of dirt and cried red tears.

Why was his head so heavy? He tried to sit up, but everything was dark and... oh, he had his eyes closed and suddenly, it was bright, too bright for such a late hour and he could hear voices... only one voice, but it sounded far away and Jason didn't care and just continued to blink at the ground, not seeing. He really never cared anymore, not about anything.

Jason Todd was dead, but no one would miss him, so why care? And Robin was dead, too and Batman didn't miss him and there was another Robin... a flash of a yellow cape in the night... And why should he care? And then there was this buzzing sound and a hand on his shoulder and he just wanted to sleep and not wake up again, 'cause why should he, if no one cares?

Why was everything so blurred? Raising his heavy head, Jason blinked at the fuzzy figure in front of him, not really seeing anything, just looking and the figure's silhouette grew sharper and Jason saw black hair and startling blue eyes, but no red smile and no green, because that was all he saw for so long and maybe that's another reason he hated green, but why didn't he hate blue?

"Jason?" He could hear the voice, but the word didn't mean anything, because Jason was dead, they were sitting on his _freaking_ grave and why was Bruce here? Why didn't Jason hate blue?

"Whatyawan'?" he slurred, not sure what he said, what it meant, but he didn't care, he never did these days.   
And Bruce was just staring at him and Jason wanted to punch that frown off his face, but moving meant the fuzziness would get worse and he couldn't move, just like the green haired man didn't want him to and Jason could feel pain and hits and metal on his skin and it hurt and Jason turned his head away, a wave of nausea crashing into him like the crowbar had done only years ago and Jason grabbed for the whisky, but big hands stopped him and Jason wanted to pull away, but he couldn't and there was someone trying to talk to him, but his hearing was muffled and he didn't want to understand.

He said his name again and Jason wanted to growl, because Jason was dead and he was nothing but rage and green and he just wanted to see someone die; who? He couldn't remember, but he could see red lips and a smile and he felt scared and his heart clenched and there was too much blood. And then he felt something cool trickle down his throat and the buzzing quieted and he could see clearer, but his head still hurt and he didn't want Bruce here, not on his grave.

"Go," he mumbled, but Bruce just looked at him sadly and Jason knew he was gonna ask him to come back again, but he didn't want to go back, because Jason was dead and they were grieving a dead boy, but they didn't care about him, no one did.

"Come home," and Jason wanted to scream, because there was no going home, and he didn't want that, but there was just nothing he could do, so he shook his head and there was this dizzy feeling again.   
"We want you back, Jay," whispered the man and Jason wanted to laugh, because no one wanted Jason, but he just grunted and tried to clear his head, staggering to his feet and pushing clumsily at Bruce's chest. "Thas no true," he slurred and swallowed to form a clear sentence and he just wanted to be that boy again, but he was dead and it was all so unfair and no one cared, but it was not his fault.

"Ya miss Jason, but Jason's dead. You miss t'at boy that died in th' explosion, but he's gone." And with that, he turned around, swaying dangerously to the side, but regained his footing and stumbled across the graveyard, away from the man that looked so sad and he just couldn't care, because it was so cold.


End file.
